Inferno Garden

Just wanted to comment that my writing style always intrigues me. I never thought myself to be the person that I write in these poems, yet I feel that is were the best part of my writing is derived. There is no particular reason why I write these poems aside from enjoyment and awe from readers. Weird huh?

"The souls of my feet simmer in the ashes of love and deceit. Does this rose of red cinders flicker from his face? Should I feel sympathy for demon's tears that expand thorns into my hand as I clench? Forsake those that would step upon the garden of Eden and ravish for its seeds! Nay, thou cannot stomp nor stammer with the woe of salvation! You demand to feed upon the innocent and so may you die by it! Tamper no more with the fruit of the hellfire tree! Pick no more blistering cherries and lay them sleep in your basket of indulgence and compunction! These petals of anguish are set ablaze on my heart…The consoling whisper of the grass is but a thunderstruck snivel below the insensitive soil…If fire should be the flame that fuels the chaste to desolation and despair, then I wish only for the water of death to carve an unsullied crest over my grave… For as long as humankind swells, the seeds of infidelity will germinate…"

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